


What Remains Unseen

by lanri



Series: Unseen [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Blindness, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanri/pseuds/lanri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s no one’s fault, just a hunt gone bad, but the consequences are huge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Remains Unseen

**Author's Note:**

> First installment in my Unseen 'verse. Enjoy. :)

“I don’t like this.”  


“Isn’t that a surprise.”  


Dean’s voice had no heat, but Sam still flinched, hearing the weariness in his brother’s voice. Ever since Sam had hit thirteen, he had begun to complain more and more about hunting in general, and he could tell Dean was tired of it. He shifted the gun to his other hand and gave his older brother a pleading look. “Last time we went in without knowing what it was, you got hurt.”  


Dean sighed. “Look, Sammy, Dad’s pretty sure it’s a witch. There isn’t anything else we can do to research it, so we just have to go in before someone else dies.”  


“I know,” Sam muttered, discreetly wiping off a sweaty palm on his jeans. “I just don’t like it.”  


Sam caught Dean’s expression soften slightly. “It’ll be fine. Plus, you’re just playing guard, here. Chances are you won’t even see the witch. What’s your problem?”  


Sam scowled. “I don’t like it when I can’t see you and Dad.”  


An affectionate hand ruffled his hair. “You just keep the Impala safe, kay? Dad’ll look out for me. And I’ll look out for him.”  


He reluctantly offered Dean a smile at that, and got a cocky grin in return. Their dad joined them after a couple minutes, hefting a large backpack on his shoulder.  


“We all set?”  


“Yessir.” Dean patted Sam on the shoulder before hoisting his own pack over his back.  


“You know the drill, Sam. Keep the walkie on, stay close to the car.”  


Sam re-gripped his own gun, ignoring his sweaty palms. It was just a hunt. Still, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that they shouldn’t be going in so blind.  


Dean and his father headed into the trees. Earlier, they had pinpointed the two points where the supposed witch could be hiding. The caves, which they were searching now, and an abandoned house. Personally, Sam figured the witch or whatever it was would pick the house, but it wasn’t like he was in charge, after all.  


“Sam!”  


It was Dean’s voice coming from the forest, not the walkie. Sam started up from where he was leaning against the Impala and headed towards where he had heard Dean’s voice. “What’s wrong?”  


“Sam, help!”  


That was all Sam needed. He took off, darting between the trees, eyes searching for his brother. “Dean, where are you?”  


“Over here. Sam, quick, Dad’s hurt.”  


Sam thought he was going in the right direction, but after a while was forced to skid to a stop. He couldn’t see his family anywhere.  


“Dean?”  


A deeper voice laughed. “Right here.”  


Sam spun, gun raised too late as his hand was intercepted and gripped tightly. Sam struggled against the bony hand, but the creature swiped something wet across his forehead, and Sam shuddered with a strange lassitude.  


“Don’t struggle.” The thing wasn’t using Dean’s voice anymore.  


“You’re not a witch,” Sam slurred, blinking at the monster. It did look somewhat human, just . . . wrong.  


It was amused. “Yes, I believe that’s true.”  


Sam didn’t realize he was being carried until he noticed trees moving by out of the corner of his eye.  


“No. Please. Don’t,” Sam pleaded, but still was unable to really struggle.  


“Hush. This will be over soon.”  


Sam didn’t like the sound of that, but was helpless to stop the creature as it carried him indoors. There was a slight feeling of satisfaction as Sam realized he was right, that the monster was hiding in the house, but that was overcome with fear as the creature strung him up by the rafters.  


“What’re you doing?” Sam managed.  


“Living for thousands of years isn’t easy, child. I need to get my strength from somewhere.”  


Sam blanched. He managed to look around, eyes finding the door. His dad and Dean would rescue him. That was how hunting worked. 

Every time Sam messed up, they saved him. It was part of the reason Sam hated hunting—he hated being helpless—but right now, he just wanted the pattern to hold.  


“We’ll start with the eyes, first.”  


Sam swung his gaze around to find the creature hunched over a bowl with some dark fluid in it.  


“What?”  


Its smile was one of rotting teeth. “Normally I start with the voice. With my mark you cannot scream, but children tend to cry rather loudly. You, however . . . you’re quiet. So we’ll start with the eyes.”  


Sam whimpered then, as the creature approached. He couldn’t help it as tears began to slide down his cheeks.  


“Shh, shh,” it crooned. It dipped two fingers into the liquid. Sam scrunched his eyes shut as the fingers approached, but the monster only touched each eyelid, leaving behind a wet residue like the one on his forehead. It began chanting, and Sam opened his eyes in panic. The room began to blur, and Sam began crying out in earnest. And then everything went dark.  


“Sammy!”  


When Dean’s voice had started changing, Sam had made fun of him, but now Sam knew it broke in the middle because his brother was terrified. And that wasn’t a good thing.  


“Dean,” he sobbed, but still was too weak to struggle really. Several gunshots rang out, and then Sam was being cut down.  


“Sammy, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here.” Dean had him in his arms, and then his dad was there as well, large hands checking his body for wounds. Sam couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t speak.  


“Is he hurt?” Dean asked.  


“No, it looks like he’s good.” The relief in his father’s voice was there, and that made Sam whimper. Because it wasn’t good. Not even close.  


“Dean, I can’t see,” he blurted out before once more he lost control and began sobbing. His family’s comforts fell on deaf ears. In the end, Sam found himself bundled into the Impala, the scent of burnt whatever-it-was in his nostrils and Dean’s terror overwhelming.  


“It’s gonna be okay, Sammy. Just take deep breaths. It’s gonna be okay.”  


Everything became confusing and disorienting in the darkness. One second he was in the Impala, the next he was on a bed in the motel room.  


And somewhere in the chaos, Sam realized that he may never see again.


End file.
